Mr and Mrs Bates: What We Didn't See
by missinsertname
Summary: All the scenes we wanted to see the end of, the cut off conversations, the alternative endings had something not happened. This is happy Anna and Bates. Fifth chapter: What if the bell had not rung when it did in the 'Alone at Last' moment?
1. You being in this room

**Hello, fellow Anna/Bates fans! Because I love this couple to bits, I think their actors are superb and their story is brilliant writing and just that I am very mushy when it comes to all romantic period drama, I had to write some happy, 'things we didn't see' scenes, or short AU 'What if's'. They won't be very in-depth, mostly fluff, but we will see how it goes. They latest episodes were great, but Fellowes seems to think a happy Mr and Mrs Bates isn't worth dedicating a show to. Only complaint ;) I hope you enjoy this very short one to start.( **_In the show __**)**_

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_"You being in this room," Mr Bates said slowly stepping toward her with a confident smile, "is enough to make it nice."_

_Anna ducked her head a little, her own smile lighting up her face. She giggled as her husband dramatically pulled the sheet she was holding from her grasp and threw it away._

_A low, "Come here," melted her a little before he pulled her in for a kiss._

_They both went to sit on the sofa, but landed and parted with a thump as they broke the wooden support in the dilapidated piece of furniture. They looked at each other and burst out laughing, his arm still around her and his reverence still clear._

They slowly fell silent as the remnants of their amusement faded, but their smiles remained as their eyes locked.

"I mean it," he said earnestly, "You are here, you are my wife, and this is our cottage. That is about as nice as anything can be... Mrs Bates." With his words he leaned in, until the last address was spoken as his lips brushed hers.

She put her hands on his shoulders, the still gloved tips of her fingers brushing his neck as he pressed his lips to hers languidly, almost lazy with their slow movement. It had occurred to him that the intense, ardent or shy chaste nature of the majority of kisses in their relationship was no longer necessary; they were married, had a house all to themselves, and no matter its condition, it was theirs. No more sneaking or worries of separation, late night conversations wouldn't take place on crates in a cold courtyard, but in their living room, or their bed.

With that logical thought process ceased as he unconsciously deepened the kiss, dropping his cane with a clatter to put his other hand around her waist, pushing her back slightly.

Anna responded with an enthusiasm which matched his, movement for movement. Similar thoughts had been climbing to the surface ever since he had kissed her upon his release, and had been niggling away at her every time they had been alone since his return. It hadn't really been too consuming though, she had been too busy marvelling being in his presence, his wife, but now they were alone, the most completely alone and private they had been in an extraordinarily long time. Prison visits were bittersweet with no touch, a guard or two lurking next to them at all times, and even before that they were never in a place with no chance of someone interrupting them, not at Downton.

Well, that isn't strictly true, is it Mrs Bates, she thought coyly to herself, the direction of her contemplation causing her to smile under his lips. There was one night...

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**Thanks for reading. I really want to ideally turn this into a request based series, because I will run out of ideas otherwise. Is there any scenes they cut off you would like to see the end of, or things we did see which you wish had ended in a fluffier way? Tell me! :)**


	2. We have to wait

**First request fulfilled, of many happily enough, and I will strive to do them all! This came from the first chapter's very first reviewer, 'kbillygoat' who asked me to write about when 'John tells Anna he is given his old room and they wont have the cottage for weeks'. Here it is, hope you enjoy and it is what you wanted, and everyone else keep requesting! (**_In the show__**)**_

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Mr Bates failed to repress a small sigh as he closed the door to Lord Grantham's dressing room. It had been their first real conversation for months and he was grateful for it immensely, even if a sneering Thomas came in halfway through to begin dressing him.

He had assumed upon his arrival that reasonably he would have to stay in his old room for a few days, until everything was sorted, but he had just been informed by his future landlord that it would be a few weeks at least until any of the cottages on the estate that were near enough to the house were empty and ready for them to move in. Apparently there were contracts and such with current and neighbouring tenants or something, but Mr Bates had switched off a little when it came to that part.

"It will be at least three more weeks Bates, probably longer, I do apologise," was all that really sunk in.

At least three more weeks until he got his own cottage. They got their own cottage. He began to walk rhythmically with his cane down the corridor, his footsteps even heavier than usual. He knew he had no right to be annoyed; God knows, this little setback was nothing compared to what they had been through, and it had a definitive end, but patience was a quality they both had to harness almost since he and Anna had first become acquainted all those long years ago, and his release from prison had cut this virtue almost completely for both of them.

It wasn't just the fact that the memories of his wedding night had faded and, though he would never admit it, had been contemplated on a frequent basis during his incarceration and he had prayed for them to be refreshed; it was more the fact that he wanted to give her all the things she had said that she dreamed of, all the things he had promised on the night a million years ago of his unconventional proposal. The memory of her shining words and smile, her face alight with a glow of pure unsullied happiness which was mirrored in his heart as he spoke of their marriage, cottage and future was an image that simultaneously plagued him with guilt and warmed him to the core whenever she was in his mind in the following months and years of complication.

He meant every word he had spoken, and God help him he had always told himself in the events that followed that if, by some miracle, he was ever truly free to do any of it, nothing and no one could stand in his way.

Now he was allowing bits of paper and signatures to do just that.

Another sigh escaped his lips, and this time it was not a private one. His wife had quietly stepped round the corner behind him with a dress in her arms, coming back from Lady Mary's bedroom.

"Don't do that, John, there isn't any reason any more is there?" she said brightly, causing him to start and grin at her sudden appearance. "Are you okay?"

Her Yorkshire lilt which lengthened the 'a' sound in okay was almost enough to shake off the mildly irritated introspection, but he looked down briefly, trying to put some of her characteristic wonderful optimism into his words. He couldn't help a slight tremor of panic running through his thoughts at her reaction, but chastised himself. She loved him, he loved her, they were married, and married couples, living together or not, had a lifetime.

"His Lordship says it will be a few weeks at least before we can have our cottage," he said with his customary low resigned voice but a dedicated only-for-Anna smile, "We have to wait."

He couldn't help notice the adorable way she ducked her head and blushed slightly at the evident layered meaning of the last four words, and was relieved to see the smile on her face.

"Is that all? Never anything if not dramatic aren't you Mr Bates?" She looked him in the eye again, and briefly checking to see if anyone was around before realising she didn't have to, she took his hand and he gratefully accepted it, curling his fingers in between hers.

"You are free, we are married and together," she said, looking up at him earnestly and speaking with a joyful, matter-of-fact tone. "I remember once, before we all found out about her and Tom, Lady Sybil-," she paused, nostalgic sadness flitting over her features for a second, "Well, she asked me if I thought love really was all that mattered like in stories, whether _everything else_ really was just _detail_ in comparison. I told her that while it wasn't always everything, it should always be enough, otherwise it's not love. A few days later I was in a car in the middle of the night bringing her back from eloping, so looking back maybe I should have chosen my words a little more carefully, but the sentiment was there."

Mr Bates' eyes crinkled as they both laughed, her musical giggle calming him immensely. She was right, of course. It didn't matter where they were, or where they were sleeping, not really anyway, not yet. It mattered, but being together mattered more, and that he could live with.

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**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, couldn't resist a little tribute to Sybil. Anything you want me to write, but it in a review, otherwise just tell me what you think, I always want to improve. Thanks for reading anyway!**


	3. I will look forward

**Third chapter! This one was requested by Bingo the Cat :'a prison scene, just after Audrey Bartlett gave the statement and freed Bates'. I hope you like it, tell me either way and review with more requests! :)**

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"Give it a rest Bates," came the irritated drawling order of the bored looking warden to his left.

His good leg was shaking, less with trepidation although that was certainly what he was feeling, more as unconscious nervous tick he had developed in his time there to counter his long buried temper, and was knocking the table leg with questionable stability enough to make a repetitive tapping sound, hence the usually silent warden's order.

He heeded him, but barely focused consciously on his words at all; his entire attentions were fixed single-mindedly on the heavy iron door at the end of the corridor, his vision striped with rusted bars, to catch the first glimpse of his salvation, in more ways than one.

This eagerness and yearning when they are forced to sit in wait for a few minutes before the visitors are allowed in was of course always ever present, and with every passing week it became more and more difficult to not focus on, to say goodbye or contemplate the fact he wouldn't see Anna again for another week of hell, but today was different.

He couldn't believe it when he had first realised the connection, the thing that could release him, the thing she had travelled and questioned to find, something, anything that would make him free.

He had thought it pointless, but knew there was no point in trying to dissuade her, because even if he could, he didn't want to give up hope either. Despite logic and reason stating she was not going to find anything, and that eventually she would give up, there was still the voice inside - a distinctly Yorkshire accented, feminine one – that brought the hope again, the flame of candlelight in the darkness of pre-electric Britain.

And she had, of course she had, her perseverance, belief in justice and him had made her find what she needed.

Today, however, he would find out if it was all for nothing or not.

His efforts to 'convince' Craig had not gone unnoticed; it was a last resort attempt at ensuring his release and he knew would compromise him significantly if it were to fail. Anna's latest letter had said that their lawyer was to go to see Audrey Bartlett again after John had stated the issue with her memory 'dealt with', and that she would tell him the definitive outcome when she visited the following day, after the telegram arrived.

The loud clunk of the large metal grate which covered the lock of the door sounded and everyone stood or sat a little straighter, John craning his neck to see her as soon as he could, to read her expression or something.

Anna had her head ducked slightly, her hat shading her face, knowing her shining eyes would look odd and perhaps boastful to the other women. She had already had looks of disdain thrown her way enough, what with her residence and some of the expensive hand-me-downs from Lady Mary which she liked to try and impress him with on occasion; she knew the glow that had exuded from her since that fated telegram was something she couldn't hide easily.

They locked onto each other's eyes and John stood, ignoring the half hearted reprimand from the disengaged warden as he opened the doorway of bars to Anna to where her husband was waiting. After a silence of a second, she simply nodded.

He literally had to force himself not to embrace her, so much so he actually stumbled on the spot. His face felt as though it was going to crack from the lack of practise it had had at the smile which had overtaken it completely. She appeared in a similar state of collapse, and it took several repetitions of "sit down will yeh" before either of them did anything more.

They sat in silence, and laughed incredulously after a few seconds.

"I got confirmation this morning," she said gleefully, cataloguing the disbelieving joy on her husbands face, "Mrs Bartlett said definitively, in a witnessed and watertight statement, that she saw Vera cleaning pastry from under her fingernails well after you had gone. Mr Murray got it copied and sent, and they confirmed, the case against you is void. You are innocent in the eyes of the law, and in a couple of weeks, you will be free. Forever. With me."

He was nearly crying now, and she had started near the beginning of her explanation. It felt like after all their time struggling, fighting to keep their heads above the water, someone had offered them not just a lifeline, but a boat to dry land.

"Thank you," came a low, honest rumble. She smiled again, sniffling a little.

"I mean it. Not just for this but for...existing, smiling, being...I can't say...I mean I have never exactly been an orator but I have to thank you. I love you Mrs Bates." He was crying now, and so was she, such wonderful laughs intermingling with them.

"Mrs Bates! You have been my wife for so long, and now I can be a husband!"

"You are, and have been." She composed herself slightly, wiping her eyes and straining not to do the same to his. She leant forward slightly, and their eyes became locked again.

"Need I remind you?"

She surprised him and felt giddy with excitement, but did not anticipate his response.

"Perhaps. I will look forward to the lesson."

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**Thanks for reading. As always, any requests/ideas/suggestions are very much appreciated, or just tell me if you liked it! ;)**


	4. A Lick Of Paint

**Guest asked for 'what we didn't see in the painting of the cottage'. I apologise, I realise I went of on a bit of a tangent, but I hope it is enjoyable nonetheless. Please review with more thoughts and ideas!**

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_"I might ask Mrs Hughes, she usually knows what's going on," Mr Bates decided, going to paint another stroke on the wall. Not concentrating properly, he flicked the paintbrush down, flecks of paint landing on his face._

_"Which is more than you do," Anna giggled, looking at him in amusement as he wiped his face, a wide smile of mirth gracing it as he looked back, raising his eyebrows in mock agreement._

"You're right though," she said resignedly, "She is the one to go to if you want to know something. She pretty much has the house wired, she just doesn't shout about it."

He nodded in knowing agreement, and they both resumed their tasks. Her sideways glances at him, already frequent due to the unharnessed nature of his thick hair which she knew to be very soft and the truthfully weakening image of him as her husband, decorating their home with casual clothes, turned into outright staring as she attempted to ascertain the reason for the clearly mischievous smile that had found its way onto his face.

"What is it?" she said finally, knowing he knew he was taunting her.

He laughed and shook his head.

"Nothing, you just reminded me..." He paused his words and movements, and shook his head again as he resumed, glancing at her only briefly as he continued to paint. "Never mind."

He had hoped that would be the end of it, as he was slightly reluctant to discuss this, but he knew her, and if he was honest he wanted to share this with her. Not that he could refuse anything even if he didn't want to share it; she was standing in an apron, decorating their home, with her hair casually pulled back in a manner which quite frankly asked to be released.

"What?" She sounded lightly admonishing now, and had abandoned her task completely, coming slightly closer to him. He shook his head again, not even sparing her a look, merely to see what her reaction would be; his playfulness rewarded him when she removed the paintbrush from his grip, sliding her fingers over his as she did so, and setting it standing in the paint beside them and forcing him to look at her with a gentle guiding hand to the side of his face.

"Tell me," She spoke with authority, but with that rare and beautiful quality that made him want to do what she said regardless, just to please her. He was pretty sure at that moment she could have told him to jump and he would have simply enquired as to the height she wanted.

"Alright," he conceded with ease. Her hand fell from his face and his skin immediately felt a little cold without her hand, but she used it to take his other hand and look up at him expectantly.

"It's just what you said, about Mrs Hughes knowing everything that goes on," he paused, unsure of his words, and she raised her eyebrows slightly in anticipation and encouragement.

"Well, this was years ago, before the war, before the flower show and everything, only a few months or so into my job. It was about the time people stopped judging me on the whole, with obvious exceptions, and I had really felt at home for the first time in years. And well...I had you."

She frowned slightly. "But you didn't see me as anything, and you didn't know my feelings, well at least not the extent of them, why was I significant then?"

Mr Bates smiled with incredulity, and didn't refrain from satisfying his sudden need to kiss her soundly.

"What was that for?" she laughed, confusedly happy.

"You really had no idea did you?" He took her hands again and led her to sit on the new sofa with him.

"What I was talking about, it was the time I realised I fell in love with you." She went to speak again, but seemed to think better of it, and waited for elaboration.

"It was Mrs Hughes, would you believe.

You see, for a good few weeks at least I had had to acknowledge my attraction to you; before then, I had tried to deny it or ignore it until I saw you again. I first realised I was doing this the days following my dismissal that never was. I don't know if you will remember, but you-"

"-brought you a tray. I was very sad you were going, I didn't really understand why yet," she finished, a hint even now of slight shyness in her tone.

"Yes, well, that was what started it properly I suppose. Well as I was saying, I knew I was attracted to you, but I thought it was me being a silly man in the face of a beautiful woman, that it would fade as I came to know you properly as a colleague, a superior technically," he paused, and say with no small sense of pride the slight blush at his words, "but of course the more I spoke to you, the more I wanted to be around you all the time. The foolish man I am, I pushed it aside and tried to hide it from you. I didn't believe anyone else would be paying enough attention to notice."

"Mrs Hughes did?"

He nodded.

"You and me had just been talking and laughing, I forget why, and I suppose I was in too good a mood to be as guarded as I tried to be. Well, you walked away and I looked after you, smiling quite ridiculously I think, and Mrs Hughes walked up to me, patted me on the shoulder and I don't think I will ever forget this, said: 'She's a fickle mistress.' I was confused thinking she meant you, so she said. 'No, not Anna, Mr Bates, love." And with that and a knowing smile she walked off. From then on, she made little pointed asides to me, I think she was trying to get me to share. But from that day on I knew I loved you, and that before then, I had not really known what that was."

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**Should I have ended there? I could have gone on forever, but I could write a bit more to it if you lovely people so wished. Reviews please :)**


	5. Alone at Last for a little longer

**This is for 'Alkd''s third request: 'what would have happened had the front doorbell not rung during the "alone at last" moment'. Thanks for all the great ideas, I intend to do them all, but I especially like this one. Sometimes, what with the Vera and prison of the last two series, we forget the adorable double meaning conversations of series one. I really hope I did this justice. I hope you like it and review! (As always:**_ in the show__**.**_**)**

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Mr Bates descended the steps to the servant's hall to repair the seam on his employer's jacket. He didn't like to think of it too much, but he hoped to run into Anna, she was usually free this time of day, but he couldn't hear any of the usual chatter. _He glanced into the servant's hall and smiled in surprise and pleasure at the head housemaid alone, who looked up at him with her customary grin which never failed to make him smile back._

"_Where is everyone?" he said, his eyes on hers._

"_They've gone down to the village, some travelling salesman set up at the pub for the afternoon," she said cheerfully back._

"_Alone at last," _he said sincerely without thinking, but couldn't quite bring himself to regret it._ She looked back down at her work, so he quickly moved on, still unable to stop smiling._

"_Shouldn't be without both footmen," he said lightly as he sat beside her, "Does Mr Carson know?"_

"_Mrs Hughes does, she's gone with them. They won't be long."_

There was something a little odd about her tone and manner, almost a little shy perhaps, which was very odd. They spoke all the time without restraint, perhaps a little too much for a valet and a housemaid, but he supposed they had never actually been alone before, ever, in the entire five months he had been there, so for this occasion he was grateful. He tried to start up a conversation to put her at ease if necessary.

"_So, you see to the girls, and you're supposed to be head housemaid. You should put in for a raise."_

_There was that little cheeky grin, that spark as she replied mock haughtily:_

"_What do you mean, supposed to be?"_

_Their eyes met, and they laughed together for a few moments_, enjoying the sound of the quiet around only their voices.

For a second there was silence as they simply looked at each other, before Mr Bates realised what he was doing and coughed, looking back towards his work. A sideways glance told him she had too, but was still smiling. He glanced again, and she did too. They laughed again like schoolchildren, her giggle making her big eyes alight.

He knew he could not waste this opportunity to talk to her unsupervised, even if his more logical side was telling him he would say something stupid without others to guide the conversation.

"I mean it though, you do so much for so little, and you never shout about it or complain. It is admirable." He fought to keep his tone light, but could not help an undercurrent of unbridled sincerity in his Irish lilt. He truly did admire her, even objectively. Mr Bates was surprised therefore when she gave him an amused admonishing look, as if he had been in jest.

"Well I was quick enough to sigh when Lady Mary bought yet another set of dresses last month which needed fitting by yours truly, and I don't think I do it for little, either." Her dainty eyebrows rose as she spoke to him, light amusement laced through her voice.

"I meant no offence Miss Smith'" he responded genially, inclining his head. "Although I must ask, in all seriousness, what is your prize, if it isn't little, being hidden away here?"

He realised they had never really spoken so intimately before; yes, he knew of her surface personality and found it to be lacking in nothing; they had had lengthy discussions on books and music and had spent hours joking and laughing, but why they were here and their future was something he knew he would usually have steered away from, but he was interested. If he was lucky enough to have met her, he wanted to know what to thank for why.

She paused in her work again to look up, her brow slightly furrowed as she contemplated how best to articulate it.

Anna couldn't help but be thrilled by being alone, truly alone with Mr Bates for the first time. She adored his company, and he appeared to enjoy hers too; he had laughed along with her at the stilted nature of the initial silence, and had implied he liked the idea of being alone with her, but he hadn't changed his expression, so it was most likely in jest, she decided. She was not so self deprecating to think he didn't really enjoy her company, but Anna had decided there wasn't much to be done about anything more than that. Aside from the odd comment that could be construed as unnecessarily complementary, he had given little indication of any other feelings toward her.

Mr Bates' question, however, she knew was easily answered, but she wasn't sure how to phrase it without seeming inappropriate or making this precious alone time awkward.

"Well, it is the people isn't it? I feel like I have a little family here, and I would hope they feel the same way. I would say I know and like all of the people I work for, and that is quite rare in service. I am lucky to live in this house, to have found..." she coughed to fill her uncertain pause, looking directly at him, hoping he would understand but being uncertain, "well, everyone, with some obvious exceptions of course."

She laughed slightly at her closing remark and he did the same. Anna fancied she saw his grin and eyes widen, but tried to ignore it, marking it down as wishful thinking. She went back to her work, waiting for a comment, but when several moments past by with nothing, she looked at him again to see a different expression on his face: fascination?

Mr Bates swallowed, and with another quirk of the lip he nodded and began his own repair, replying as he looked down.

"You're right, it is quite rare to find employers like ours. And I for one do feel the same way." He paused, unsure of his words, and attempted to lighten their weight. "If of course I wasn't one of the exceptions."

He glanced up, wanting to gauge her reaction, and was not displeased by the slight blush that had crept onto her usually cool complexion, and they smiled at one another again, but somehow they both suspected it wasn't in amusement.

"You aren't, that is certain. But I wouldn't say you felt like family to me," she said boldly with her eyes briefly closed, surprising herself. She almost immediately regretted it, knowing she would now have to explain it away, but couldn't help feeling satisfied at the feeling of complete honesty for once.

His face initially fell slightly, but he registered the nervousness that had accompanied her words and couldn't control the uncertain smile creeping back onto his face and a swooping sensation low inside as he registered their potential meaning.

"Well, what would you say I am then?"

A rare curious playfulness accompanied his question, so she decided to encourage it, enjoying the dangerous topic more than she knew she probably should.

"I don't know, perhaps the mysterious but odd man next door type?"

They both laughed again. He couldn't remember a time when his quiet spoken mouth had laughed more in one short conversation. Anna's eyes looked so bright as she continued.

"I don't know though, all I know is you are not family."

"Well I am just the valet."

"You, Mr Bates, aren't 'just' anything. Not to me."

The atmosphere shifted with the sincerity of her words, and he smiled at her again, but a different smile, a slow one, a calm one. She wasn't sure what to do, so broke the sudden but oddly comfortable silence again.

"What would you say then, Mr Bates? How do you see me?"

He swallowed again.

"A friend." His voice was low, and quieter than usual.

"Just a friend?" Anna fought desperately to keep her voice light and teasing, but couldn't help betraying a shade of disappointment.

"You aren't 'just' anything, Anna."

He didn't mean for it to sound so meaningful, so layered, but he couldn't help it, and to defend himself she was doing the same thing. They had both stopped any pretence of mending to focus on the other, their smiles.

They both started as one of the bells behind Mr Bates rang, and Anna let her face fall for a second as he turned to see which it was. Knowing someone being at the front door would end their conversation, neither of them could help feeling a little exasperated.

Professionalism back however, she suggested Mr Bates answer it. They made their way to the door, Anna hanging back out of sight as he answered it. They wouldn't forget this conversation, and couldn't help but want to be alone at last a little longer.

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**There you go! Hope you enjoyed, tell me what you thought! (Quick question: I realise back and forth dialogue isn't my thing, and in these in particular I don't really have much of it unless it is like a mini speech. Should I attempt to put more in, or is it fine the way it is?) Thanks for reading anyway!**


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